


Signal Fire

by river_soul



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-10 01:14:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/river_soul/pseuds/river_soul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She steadies her breath against the low, guttural sound he makes and concentrates on the smell of him, the swirl of cologne and cordite and the faint sweetness of expensive perfume from a half-remembered dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Signal Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to jazmin22 for being an awesome beta . This story is in response to a prompt at the inception_kink. Possible dubcon warning.

The first time, the explosion of violence roots Ariadne to the spot and Cobb is on her before she has the chance to defend herself, to diffuse the situation. They don’t speak after he slams the grate shut and the elevator moves unsteadily upward, but Ariadne let him crowd her against the rough wood of the wall while the guilt and shame of his previous life plays out in front of her.

Ariadne knows she should give herself a kick, find some way to escape his hands and his mouth, but she can’t. She knows she has to stay for the same reason she came down after him. He’s lost, spiraling down into the darkness of regret and he’s going to drag them with him unless she can help.

Let me in she thinks, forehead pressed to his. For a moment he falters against her, body seizing up, and then oh it’s all rushing inside her with each jerk of his body into hers. She sees underneath his desperate violence to the grief and fear for the first time. His mind overwhelms hers and all that he would try to hide away pours in, resonating inside her until there is nothing left but the crash of waves and a thousand crumbling cities inside her.

-

The next time neither of them is dreaming.

Ariadne knows he’s afraid of what she already knows, of what she draws out of him and into herself. It’s why she lets Cobb lay her out on her desk in the workshop when everyone has gone home. She can feel his desperation and the rolling anger under his hands when they slide between her legs, thumb finding an old bruise on the soft skin of her inner thigh. She struggles under him, against the sting until his other hand falls over her hip, heel pressing hard into bone and she cries out under him please, please.

From behind half-closed eyes she sees the flash of his teeth and tastes the anguished relief of the words she’s gone, she’s gone that he breathes into her mouth like a prayer. It feels like she’s burning up, body white hot against his cool skin. Ariadne knows he’s close, she feels it in the way his hand tightens around her wrists and she concentrates on the light brush of his silk tie across the skin of her chest. She steadies her breath against the low, guttural sound he makes and concentrates on the smell of him, the swirl of cologne and cordite and the faint sweetness of expensive perfume from a half-remembered dream.

When they are finished, Cobb hesitates at the doorway for just a moment. He stares at her face and the red marks, vivid against her skin, that won’t fade like before. Ariadne doesn’t recognize the emotion she sees cresting in his eyes and she wonders if he comes to her to forget his wife or to remember her now.

-

Days trickle past and Ariadne learns to read the signs in the lines around his mouth and the crinkling in the eyes. She knows when it’s time to watch out for Mal in his dreams again or to run interference with the team, and she learns to make excuses and spin lies to send the others home early.

It’s always easier when she’s prepared, when she knows what’s coming in his dreams and her reality.

-

The last time it’s midnight, hours before they’re meant to leave and she’s only just finished the plan on the last level when Cobb comes to her again.

He pushes her against the wall, knocks the breath out of her in a small, strangled cough. She strains against him for only a moment and he kisses her, open-mouthed and brutal, tongue slick against underside of hers. He pulls at her skirt, shoves it up around her waist.

“Wait, wait," she gasps, tries to keep him from ripping the fabric but he grabs her wrist easily in one hand, and stills her attempts.

He touches her softly for just a moment and her body goes slack surprise and then he’s inside her, moving sharply. Her left arm has gone numb, pinned behind her back, and he has the other one pressed above her head, into the rough grain of the concrete wall. He holds her there after he’s finished, breathing out the aftershock of his release against the curl of her hair. She doesn’t protest, legs shaky and weak against the side of his hips.

When she finally opens her eyes she’s surprised to see the wide blue of his own watching her. His fingers fall across her face but his hands are gentle as they ghost over the rise of her lips and brow, mapping out the grooves of her face. His mouth follows his fingers, memorizing the feel of her and she sighs quietly against the skin of his cheek, body yielding to his. She remembers this from before, from a life not her own and it’s a relief from the anger, the desperation.

“Dominic,” she says and his name tastes old in her mouth, well used. “Please,” Ariadne asks.

“Close your eyes,” he tells her and the kiss that comes next is tender and unhurried. He moves their lips together sweetly, palm cradling her cheek and Ariadne knows this is his apology, his goodbye to her.


End file.
